Of Paperwork and Thunderstorms
by The Leaf 180
Summary: After Sakumo's death, Minato takes on the job of taking care of a numb Kakashi. But the young prodigy is haunted by memories of The White Fang, can Minato get him to open up? Is Minato enough to help him heal when the boy is determined to shut him out?
1. The first night

It was a dark day in Konoha; a downpour was washing the streets and coating it in a slick rain. The rain left a glossy sheen on everything in its wake. The lightning flashes and a low growl of thunder tails close behind.

A crackle and a flash illuminates the isolated streets. All signs of life deserted and forced to wait out the storm. A clap of thunder vibrates through the shaken town, as rain floods the streets.

A spark of light illuminates a window. A young boy stands by the storm. Appearing impassive, but fear lit in the depths of his eyes. He tries; he desperately tries to seem emotionless. He does not want anyone knowing about his inner turmoil.

He didn't need them to worry about him. But he still wishes there was someone there to comfort him. He wishes his father was still with him to wait out the storm. So he wouldn't have to stay awake alone all night.

But, as he stands in the storm, he can't help but feel frightened. He calls himself, weak, childish, to feel this feeling. To admit that he was scared. He shouldn't be afraid; a good shinobi never shows fear.

A loud snarl of thunder and a blinding strike of lightning and it terrifies the poor boy. The rain is relentless and the wind is howling and whipping outside.

He has flashbacks of that night, still raw and fresh in his mind. Lightning always reminded him of Sakumo, the night that he had found his father. It had been a night like this one.

_*Flashback*_

_A particularly nasty storm traumatizing Konoha. With a bolt of lightning guiding him and a steady roll of thunder pounding in synch with his heartbeat. Hearing his blood pounding in his ears and his breath catch because he knows something is very, very, wrong. _

_And his feet refuse to listen to him and his throat closes up and his breath becomes raspy and labored with panic. _

_The lightning providing a path for him and the thunder urging him on. And he's running, running, running, just wanting to escape the choking, unnatural stillness in the air. And he checks almost every room, his mind refusing to believe that he really was smelling blood. _

_And the suffocation grows with every step he takes. And he stops short. _

_The room down the hall, the room that had been closed for all his life. The one his father told him to never go into, because that was private and no matter what that door stays closed. It was down the hall, the door was still closed, as always, but now he knew that there were secrets and discoveries beyond that door. _

_It was the only room he hasn't checked. He takes a precarious step forwards, and then another, his eyes wide with fear and his whole body trembling with barely compressed anxiety. _

_Each step takes an eternity, his mind battling fear, and a small voice in his head telling him to turn back, get help, just go, do something. But he needed to do this alone. His breath is short as he reaches the door he was restricted from. He hears lightning cackle in the background and the sound of rainfall is drowned out by his thumping heart._

_His hand shakily turns the knob and Kakashi enters the nightmare._

_*End of fashback*_

He wished he had never opened that door. He wished he had just called for someone else and let them take care of it. Then the last memory of his father could have been a better one and not his glassy, unseeing eyes and his limp body on the floor of the study.

All the horrors of life became real and he was lost without his father to guide him. He had opened that door and closed his heart. Maybe, if he had never opened that door, he could have let the ANBU that were forever patrolling come check it out.

He could have had his last sight of his father at a happier time, not lifeless and cold and heavy and dead. He couldn't forget it. A blaze of light and the flashback fades, leaving a broken child in its wake. And the fears in his eyes are real, and this was the reality, and his father was gone. And now he cowers in fear, absolutely frightened, as memories surge forth.

He does not hear the door open; he does not hear the empty footsteps echoing down the hall. And if he could, it would have petrified him.

He does not hear his name being called, the booming thunder drowns it out, and he does not see a person enter the room, the strong lightning flashes and shields the intruder. But he does feel the hand on his shoulder. And his mind races a mile a minute and he gasps in pure fear as his eyes sees things that aren't there.

His eyes widen as he stares at the stranger, desperately trying to match a name to a face, trying to identify the unfamiliar hand on his shoulder. A shock of yellow hair allows him to recognize the visitor.

His terror-stricken body relaxes, his tight shoulders cautiously unwind his coiled muscles slack, his eye droops slightly, and he lets out the breath he didn't know he had been holding.

He keeps his eyes downcast, ashamed of letting his emotions get to him. Knowing that he should be better than then that and his father had taught him better than that. He should have known who it was, he should have been prepared.

He was a chuunin; he was expected to be better, to know more. What if it had been an attack? He would have been dead in a flash on the field. That was irreversible; if he died he would never be able to bring honor to his long dead clan. He was the last of the Hatake, and he had to live up to their forgotten legacy.

The hand on his shoulders softens, and Minato-sensei crouches down so he is eye level with his student. Gentle blue eyes bore into hard black ones. The beginning of a smile begins to crack its way through the man's worried look.

"It's okay to be afraid, Kakashi." The man whispers.

_No, it's not… _The silver haired boy averts his gaze stubbornness and pride preventing him from admitting it.

Though he knows that Minato had been there for who knows how long. And he had been watching Kakashi for who knows how long, and how much had he seen? There was no use trying to deny it, his pain and fear was clear in his eyes, the only place he hadn't managed to cover up.

Sensei was lying. It was never okay to be afraid. Fear was an emotion, and emotion lead to failure. Why couldn't sensei understand this? He could feel the confusion bubbling up from inside him.

The way it always did when sensei smiled or hugged Kakashi. How come it was okay for sensei to be happy? How come he could show emotion and get away with it? How come there were no consequences for him?

There were consequences for Kakashi; he had his heart ripped out the first time he tried. The rules, his father had preached them, but in the end they didn't apply to him. And in then they killed him.

Was it the same with Minato-sensei? And he asks himself again and again, what was this warm feeling that always overcomes his and swallows him like a big fuzzy blanket?

He didn't know what it was, he struggled with it, and in the end he left it alone. Then it became less enjoyable and easier to ignore. It was much simpler that way, and every time he pushed it aside, he always wonders if he was really seeing the sadness in his sensei's eyes.

He always was left confused by the disappointment and deep sorrow in his sensei's gaze. Did he do something wrong?

Surrounded by his thoughts, he fails to react to his sensei's big arms folding around him and gathering him up. His struggles are in vain and his protests are muffled. That would have been another fatal mistake in the field.

He scowled in his sensei's arms, he was making stupid mistakes. He would have been dead twice over in battle. He shouldn't let himself be ruffled by the storm. He was supposed to be untouchable. Why was he breaking down after something so simple? He was supposed to be stronger.

Minato picks him up off the ground and cradles the boy in his arms. Exhaustion takes over and Kakashi hangs limp in the man's arms. He lets him carry him over to the bed and place him down gently. He watches his sensei with wary eyes as he moves to sit next to him.

They sit on the bed, and Kakashi's eyes are beginning to feel heavy and drowsy, but he refuses to let it show.

It didn't get past his sensei. "Are you tired Kakashi?"

He shook his head with a muffled "No."

He would not sleep on this night. He sighed and looked at his sensei. The man's eyes met his and they stared at each other. Kakashi's gaze cold and accusing and Minato are soft and warm. Minato's eyes were friendly and open, and Kakashi's were clouded by distrust and weariness. His sensei's eyes were open for comfort.

He wanted to help this boy, but he refused to let him close. Somewhere deep inside, Kakashi doesn't want Minato to leave him, he clings to him. He wants to learn, but his pride won't let him. He squeezes his eyes shut in frustration and a desperate attempt to hide from the blame and confusion.

Minato calmly observes his student try to cope with the grief. He lays his arm on the boy's shoulder and is pleased to see the boy accept the movement and lean further into his embrace. Minato allows a small quiet smile to grace his lips as he gazes at the crushed boy in his arms.

He looks down fondly as the young boy in his arms shakes with memories.

"You know why we have storms and rainy days?" Minato peered at his student over a tuff of silver hair

_To torture me? To make sure I'll never forget? _Kakashi darkly answered in his head.

"Hmm?" Minato watched his student's reaction as he waited for an answer. He saw the boy's eyes become shadowed and he hoped that whatever he was going to say his answer would still work.

"I don't know…" Came the quiet reply. Kakashi's eyes narrowed as he wandered deep in thought and he waded farther into his misery. He felt it was better not to say what was really going on. The less people knew about him, the better. The harder it would be to hurt him.

"Well this is a good learning experience!" Minato cuddled the boy closer, he felt Kakashi stiffen against him and begin to pull away, but Minato kept him locked firmly in his arms, forcing Kakashi to accept his fate.

"Sensei-"Kakashi tried to break free, but his struggles proved useless as his sensei trapped him in an embrace. He didn't need this. He wished his sensei would leave him be. So he could be alone and suffer in silence instead of trying to distract him. He didn't want to know about the rain, he didn't care why they had rainy days, for him they were just to make him miserable.

"Stop squirming, I won't let you go." Minato's stubbornness was another one of his many traits. And Kakashi knew that any attempt of escape was impossible. So he stopped wriggling and gaze out through his sensei's arms around him. Trapping him like a jail.

Feeling his student's surrender, Minato went on with a light chuckle.

"Well, the rain gives the plants a drink and the sun a break, because it can't keep shining forever can it? The sun goes away and the rain comes out and refreshes all the plants, and when the sun comes back, it shines brighter. We have days like these so we can learn to embrace the brighter things and enjoy sunny days to their full potential."

Kakashi involuntarily rolled his eyes. That was ridiculous; rainy days were just because of nature, nothing more. There was no such thing as the sun going out, or shining brighter, it's always the same. And it wouldn't change.

When the sun came out again, he couldn't appreciate because he knew it would be taken away again. How could he enjoy it if he knew it wouldn't last? How could he fully live when he knew storm clouds and rainy days would soon follow after everywhere he went and everything he did? Or did his sensei mean something deeper than that?

Did he know what day it was? Was he saying what sadness is all part of life and when it's over you were supposed to go on like nothing happen? How after the rain and terror is over you're supposed to be all happy and life will seem better after? His sensei was crazy.

He should know by now that that's never how things work. After the storm bright days grow duller and hearts grow colder.

Minato calmly waited in the silence, feeling pretty proud of himself for thinking that one up. He was so good with words sometimes. It made perfect sense to him. There are still good things in life. Maybe that would cheer up this bitter boy he knew. Maybe he would understand what he was trying to get at.

An answer never came, for the boy seemed to embrace the rest and give up trying to resist the sleepiness that was coming over him. His eyes drooped lower and his world became fuzzy as sleep tugged at his mind.

He surrendered the battle for awareness and allowed rest to swamp his mind and steal him from the waking world.

Minato guided the covers over the sleeping form of the boy, gazed at him in affection, and swept out of the room leaving only a peaceful aura in his wake.

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><p><strong>Yaay for the end of chapter one! I'll have more eventually, but it will come quicker if you reveiw. Even if you want to tell me its terrible, I'm cool with flames.<strong>


	2. Paperwork with sensei

It was a sunny day; the sun was sparkling and pouring through the open window. The air was fresh and clean and whistling through the trees. The wind was soothing and calm and singing the song of nature.

The weather was warm and the children were playing. The squeals of their laughter danced up through the window and taunted those shut inside. Kakashi could imagine them, faces alit with joy and a smile painted on their features. Just the way they were supposed to be.

His eyes darken, how could they be having so much fun when war was on the horizon? The sound of children's glee fades into the background as he focuses on the drawling task before him.

He and his sensei were locked inside Minato's apartment. Minato had made sure of that by locking the door and throwing the key out the window. He said it was so "They wouldn't be tempted to escape." Kakashi had just snorted. He bet he could escape if he wanted to.

His stoic student had just watched in faint interest but did not care to hide the annoyance that shone in his eyes. Grinning like an idiot, his sensei informed him that today he had paperwork to do today. The young protégé had tried to remain impassive when a sly voice in his head was whispering_ why is he smiling like that?_

The young boy continued to stare at the man, silently urging him to elaborate. The yellow haired man continued on to say that this would be another "Great learning experience" and that this would definitely come in handy someday.

Especially when people would someday marvel at Kakashi's paper work skills and wonder how he got them. And then Kakashi –because he would be so modest by then- would humbly give all the credit to his teacher and say that he would be nowhere without him.

The speech had earned an eye roll from the young protégé. The lecture of the importance of paperwork had ended with Minato getting down to work and his student left to his own devices.

While his sensei was doing all the work, Kakashi had opted to stare out the window all day and witness a day being wasted. So that was how it came to be, Kakashi and Minato buried up to their necks in paperwork.

Minato hadn't told his student exactly what the paperwork was about, but Kakashi had peered over his shoulder once or twice, and he had a pretty good idea. Finally his sensei decided they should take a break, even though he had done all of the work and Kakashi had just been staring out the window wasting valuable time in which he could have used for training.

The man had then left for some hard-earned ramen. Leaving Kakashi with only his curiosity for company. Staring out into the sunlight, his eyes narrowed as he was rendered helpless at the mercy of yet another flashback.

_*Flashback*_

_The door swung open. A rush of cold air forced a chill down the young boy's back. He choked on the scent of death in the air, refusing to acknowledge the fact that this was actually happening. It wasn't a dream, he wasn't waking up and things were never going to be the same. _

_The boy chokes out a sob, staggering over to where to form of his father lay. Back turned to him, blood long since ceased to spill out onto the floor. Each step took an eternity and his breath came back slowly, all the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. _

_He vacuumed in air, faster and faster, trying to rid the unnatural stillness in the air. He felt his feet slap against the floor, splashing in his father's blood, just to make some kind of noise. _

_Each step seemed to take him farther away, his racing heart pushed him on, he faintly recognized thunder in the background, not realizing that he would forever tie in the sound with the death of the white fang, his father, his idol, his everything. _

_It would symbolize the day when everything came crashing down around him. The day when he suddenly became the child he really was, just a young boy trying to play ninja. His eyes stretch open as far as they could go; the thunder mocks him, taunting him to take another step. It cackles evilly in the background. _

_The lighting buzzes through the sky, igniting the room in a flash. He is near his father now, the man who cared for him, the only kind of love he's ever know, dead on the floor. He stumbles, reaching out with his quaking hands, cringing as the blood seeps in between his fingers. _

_His gaze is locked on the floor, lost in the red swamping through his hands and staining his knees. He can't rip his gaze away from his father's corpse, or the crimson liquids pooling on the ground below him. _

_His throat suddenly gets too tight to breathe and his gaze is blurred and he knows he is hyperventilating, but he can't seem to stop. _

_He knows he is shaking uncontrollably and he knows tears are unwillingly welling up in his eyes, glazing them over and making him look childish and weak but at the moment he didn't really care. All he knew was that his father was dead, and there was no going back. _

_A wail bubbles up in his throat and he lets it leak out, reluctantly, it fills the silence in the room, bouncing off the walls and striking sorrow into every being that was near. But there is no one. No one to hear the mourning of a young boy and no one to witness the grief of a young child. _

_He lets it out, he cries for his loss, but there is no one who cares enough to act. They just stand by as one of Konoha's greatest legends fade and become lost to the world. Soon he too is silent, not wanting to leave his spot on the floor. _

_He is numb, staring at it all. Trying not to take it all in, cursing his genius mind and his still to fresh memory. Eventually he straightens himself up, his clothes bloodstained and his eyes red from his sorrow. _

_The innocent glint in his eyes is replaced with a cold one, one of understanding and well hidden pain. The boy exits, no longer a boy, but a toy soldier, because he now knows. A shinobi was a tool built to die. _

_He leaves the man who once loved him, alone on the floor. Forgotten. He is the new Kakashi and he has killed emotion. He will not cry anymore. He will not know love. He will grow up to be what he was made to be. A tool. _

_The heavens are crying above him, but they are not crying for the loss of the white fang, it is something much deeper than that. They are crying for what has been lost here, the loss of yet another childhood to war. The boy has seen the truth._

_Love will never bring him home. He knows that now._

_*End of flashback*_

Kakashi shook his head to rid the unwanted memories and tries to occupy himself with another task. Oh how he hated remembering.

He decides to take a better look at all the stupid paperwork they were stuck inside with. He totters over to where his sensei was working, still unstable from the rush of memories that had yet to fade from his mind. He blinks to keep his mind off of the past as he takes a look on the tabletop. There were pictures on the table spread out.

One of them was a girl with short chestnut brown hair and bland brown eyes. She had deep purple marks on her cheeks and a shy smile.

The next picture was one of a young boy with jet black hair and dark eyes to match. The boy's eyes gave him an impish look and he had a playful glint to them. He was wearing striking orange goggles which were impossible to miss and a cheesy grin spread out underneath that made the boy look even more immature and childish.

Kakashi glanced over the information on the pages, making sure to memorize the important parts such as any kekkai genkais or special abilities.

It turns out the girl's name was Rin and she was studying to be a medic. Her rank was genin and she had not been on any missions at all yet, but had experience with healing as she would take care of her little sisters and would occasionally help out at the hospital, which Kakashi found surprising.

Apparently she would take care of minor things and any children that might come in seeing that most of the medics were field medics and were away, she took some light work every once and a while.

She seemed to be a mediocre ninja at best, weak in the areas of taijutsu and ninjutsu, seeming to rely heavily on genjutsu instead. She was more of a healer than a fighter. Her medical record was clean.

The boy was another story. He was called Obito and apparently hailed from the mighty Uchiha can, but passed the academy with the only the bare minimum. He was a new genin also, and had no experience in missions or anything else.

He was failing in most subjects and hadn't awakened the sharingon. He had no major talents and nothing to make him stand out. He had few jutsus covering only the very basics. He was struggling in taijutsu especially but seemed stronger in ninjutsu than the girl and his genjutsu was typical for boys his age.

His medical record was also spotless, similar to the girl's. He frowned, was his sensei thinking of taking on another student? Wasn't he enough?

Out of the corner of his eye he caught more papers. Standing on the tips of his toes and stretching his arm out as far as they would go he fished out the remaining papers from where they lay farther toward the center of the table top.

Eyes forming slits as he reached his goal, he allowed a flicker of accomplishment to warm his being. Mouth curled into a cheeky grin behind his mask, he leaned back into a more comfortable position and began to look over the newly discovered papers.

There was a picture of his sensei, his yellow hair in all of its glory atop his head and his overused cheap grin with his name written next to the picture. There was little on his sensei, stating that his rank was jounin and the amount of missions he had been on.

His history was short and brief and to the points saying that he was good with team work and had worked with groups before. He had put in a request for a two more genin to complete his currently lacking four man squad.

He had excelled in every field of learning, even if he was a bit behind with his genjutsu, it wasn't by far. His list of jutsu was longer than Kakashi cared to read, but by flipping through the list he wondered how his sensei did it.

There were all kinds of jutsu, all different elements, and Kakashi wondered how he remembered all of them along with the hand signs. His trump card was the technique that gave him his nickname and made him famous, and Kakashi found that hardly surprising.

He didn't care enough to look into his sensei's medical record, and skipped over it. He then looked at his own profile.

There was a picture of his bored looking self staring straight at the camera and looking mildly annoyed. Kakashi couldn't remember taking the picture but he knew it needed to be updated as soon as possible.

He wasn't six anymore. His birthday had just passed, and now he was seven and liked to think he looked a little more mature than the boy in the picture glaring at him. It then started in on a little of his history, marking his graduation from the academy at the early age of five, and then his promotion to chuunin at six.

He surpassed kids twice his age in every field of learning possible, and like his sensei, he was a bit behind in genjutsu, but it was adequate enough. He specialized in ninjutsu and taijutsu like most ordinary ninja, but Kakashi was far from average.

It then showed his list of jutsus he had mastered, a list that Kakashi then skipped because he already knew them. It then showed his medical record, which was nothing major, he had only returned severely injured once or twice, and it noted the extent of his wounds but also mentioned that none would interfere with his performance as a shinobi.

Kakashi then put down all forms of paper and went back to sit by his spot near the window. His mind reeling from all the information he had absorbed. He never knew paper work was so boring. He gazed outside, the children had long since gone home and Kakashi was beginning to get a bit tired himself.

He was just beginning to dose off when he sensed another presence in the room. Opening his eyes ever so slightly, he quickly recognized his sensei by the shock of yellow hair.

His sensei turned to him, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "Did you have a nice rest Kakashi?"

His student glared at him. "I wasn't sleeping." _A good shinobi never sleeps on the job._

His sensei's delight only grew when the boy was betrayed as his face contorted into a yawn. Chuckling, Minato turned to his papers as Kakashi's face turned a light shade of pink in the background. They were out of order and somewhat crumpled as if someone had not handled them carefully.

His confusion cleared as he stole a sideways glance at his young student, who wasn't meeting his gaze. His smile only widened. He opened his mouth to accuse his pupil of looking through his stuff, but his apprentice spoke first.

Kakashi walked over to where his sensei stood; when he reached him he stood up a bit taller and strained his head so his mentor would lean down to grant him access to the papers in hand.

After doing so, Kakashi pointed to the two genin on the paper. "Sensei, who are they?"

Minato's eyes flashed in glee. "They are your new teammates Kakashi!"

The chuunin stared at him. "What?"

The man in front of him began to laugh, before going on to explain the concept of "teamwork" and "camaraderie". And how these two genin would now work alongside Kakashi from now on and he was expected to help them learn and grow, and learn them inside and out so he can guide them.

And eventually he would be teaching some little genins of his own someday. Kakashi found it highly unlikely. He knew he would never be a teacher. He hated kids.

He could already tell by looking at these two that they would only be useless burdens. He didn't need this. He worked alone. After informing his sensei of this, the man just looked saddened, but he quickly recovered.

Inwardly, the older jounin sighed. When would his student realize that they needed people in their lives? That friends and comrades were what kept you sane as things speed up.

That these two genin would soon be the people that Kakashi would be trusting to watch his back, and at some point, they might even hold his life in their hands?

When will he realize that it was the people around you that kept you human and no amount of knowledge could ever replace that? Looking down on the boy he had more or less taken under his wing, he hoped that Kakashi wouldn't be the one to find these things out the hard way.

He then began to introduce Kakashi to his new teammate's pictures and background stories not knowing that Kakashi was only just recently notified of this. After going through Obito and Rin, he stopped for a moment.

Then he remembered the cold ramen, and he burst out of his thoughts and over to his dinner where he began unpacking and chattering happily about the long line and how he almost forgot his money and then he couldn't choose for Kakashi because he knew that Kakashi didn't like ramen but he also knew that he couldn't let the kid go hungry, so he just choose what the he would normally get, and hoped that Kakashi would enjoy it as much as he did.

He chittered on, never looking up and noticing that his student had never moved from his spot in the apartment. Little did he know that Kakashi was victim of a series of flashbacks.

The man looked up from his dinner worriedly. "Kakashi, time to eat."

He got no reply. It seemed that the silver haired boy did not hear him. His sensei repeated the phrase a few more times before getting up to inspect his unresponsive pupil.

He got up and wandered over to his young apprentice. The faraway look in his eyes was not lost to his mentor, and it seemed to Minato that the boy had zoned out. He snapped his fingers in the boy's face a few times and repeated his name over and over, hoping to reach him.

Furrowing his brow in concern and confusion, he watched they boy's eyes, uncharacteristically wide, display emotions. He saw fear, guilt, pain, longing and desperation in the murky mix of Kakashi's sunken eyes. He watched emotions play across the young boy's face, and he could only wonder what the chuunin was seeing.

He cleared his throat after a few moments, hoping to capture his student's attention. "Are you okay?"

The boy started, his eyes flashed in grief, and then it was gone. Minato's eyes softened in sympathy as he guessed what was on the young child's mind. He should have known that the boy was thinking of his father.

It would have been a traumatic experience for any child Kakashi's age, and Minato knew that it would not be an easy obstacle to get over. But he should know that he could always talk to his teacher if he ever wanted to, Minato would be there for him no matter what, because he had to take care of this child now.

Kakashi was his responsibility. The boy nodded mutely, and Minato reminded him that he could tell him anything, but he doubted that his apprentice heard him. Swiftly changing the subject, making sure that he kept the boy's attention this time, he returned to the cold ramen, long since forgotten by Kakashi.

He kept a careful eye on his student, but the boy did not seem to want to talk, and so Minato let it be, and they ate in a somewhat empty but comfortable silence.


	3. Revelations on the rooftop

**I'm SORRY! I had writer's block and then Microsoft word wouldn't open and it was really strange so I had to finish it here on in the "Edit/Preveiw thing. ****Just to make things clear, they are walking along the edge of Minato's roof, overlooking his balcony. You know how those things are kind of slanted? Towards the end I switch POVs a lot. I hope it isn't too confusing.**

* * *

><p>The cold nipped at them and numbed their edges. The sound of shuffling feet is the only sound. Soft moonlight cascades down on man and child and wraps them in a coat of silver.<p>

Both man and child's eyes are just beginning to adjust to the darkness surrounding them. The child tries to balance, but fails. The disadvantage of the steep rooftop leans towards the left. The chuunin loses his footing and a brief flash of panic dances across his eyes before his outstretched hand if caught and he is hauled back into balance.

Konoha's yellow flash chuckles quietly. "Careful there"

His student glared at him "I don't see the point of this, sensei." He reprimanded.

The boy starts off again across the rooftop, shakily, as his mentor trails close behind, just in case. Ready to catch his student and keep him steady. The jounin moves with practical ease, even without the aid of chakra and the boy moves slowly, cautiously, not yet ready to let himself leak chakra to the soles of his feet yet to glue himself on.

He keeps his arms outstretched at his sides to ensure stability. His sensei says it's better to learn how to do without and know how to latch himself on to uneven surfaces so he can get the concept of balance down, and then at chakra. Kakashi thinks it's a big waste of time.

His sensei smiled again. "Think of it as training."

The boy turned his head sideways a bit sharply. "This late at night?"

Kakashi started to wobble over towards the end of the rooftop, keeping an ear out for his sensei's answer. He began to lower his extended arms to his sides as he became a little more certain of his sense of balance. Minato moved so he could walk next to his student as he kept pace with the boy's short legs.

He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly "Of course, everything's better at night!"

Kakashi snorted. _Says you _He thought scathingly. The duo turned around simultaneously and began the trek back across the rooftop.

"…And then when you get good at this you'll be able to climb trees and walk on water!" Minato exclaimed.

Kakashi shot a sideways glance at him. All this was a waste of time. He could be doing something more important, like sleeping. As if to prove his point, Kakashi's face twisted into a yawn, reminding him yet again of how late it was.

They had reached the center of the roof and Kakashi feels himself begin to sway and tilt towards the left, so, without moving his hands, he evens himself out by sinking his weight into his right foot and soon glued to the rooftop as sturdy as he had been a moment before.

His sensei unfolded his arms when the pair made contact with the rim of the surface they were walking along. They both stopped for a moment to gaze at the dead night. Deadly and black as the village slept.

The silhouettes of two ninja, young and old, silver and gold, can be seen in the dark of night. Their figures are outlines by starlight and they are bathed in a pearly light. They look out at the village.

Minato can see a village worth dying for as he gazes out into the midnight. He can see the ANBU with his quick eyes that miss nothing as they try to make themselves unseen. He can see a squad of ninja returning to the village. If he squints he can see the two guards that were unlucky enough to be assigned the graveyard shift.

He can imagine them, their eyes ever so serious as they stare out into the black abyss of a forest. He can see the dim lights of a local jounin bar known as The Rusty Kunai and he can barely make out figures moving around inside. He beams at the familiar night scene.

Kakashi can see his home. He can spy with his sharp eyes the porcelain masks of an ANBU operative glistening in the moonlight, pale and ghostly white and unnatural as it contrasts against the shadowy night. But almost as soon as he catches it in his range of views it jets away and out of sight.

He can see the local park, grass gleaming in the cold, unearthly glimmer of moonlight. He can see the swing set that the children use in the day time, frozen and untouched in the night. It basks in a patch of silvery moonlight, slick with dew.

He looks down on the deserted streets of Konoha, how they will transform into the bustling streets of civilians, ever so jovial and painfully naïve, unaware of the approaching war. He has witnessed the civilians bring the cold and desolate streets of Konoha to life. Just like everything else, the civilians had a place in Konoha. The village hidden in the leaves wouldn't be the same without them.

He watches the world sleep. He can see the rooftops of the compound, and he can imagine how small he must seem, one speck of silver in the maze of houses. How easy it is for him to be overlooked and go unnoticed. But someday he will make himself known. He will find a name for himself. He will no longer be known as just "The son of The White Fang" but Kakashi. Just Kakashi.

The jounin turned and strolled towards the center of the rooftop. The chuunin beside him shifted his murky gaze and followed his sensei with his eyes. His teacher falls into a seated position –crossed legged- with ease. His friendly eyes beckon for Kakashi to come and join him.

Kakashi follows in the same manor, sitting in front of his sensei, leaning on his arms and he gazes out into the deep violet twilight glazed with twinkling stars, in a mass of black and purple that faintly reminds him of a bruise. The masterpiece painted in front of him, the glimmering sunrise to the swirling depths of pure white stars all coming together in a spiral of stardust that can only be known as dawn.

_*Flashback*_

_The room is deserted. The Hatake house is silent. The only sound is the breathing of the last Hatake. He stares at the stain on the floor. The stain caused by his father's blood because of his father's selfishness. It represents the end of his old life. The knot in his stomach tightens until he is forced to clench his fist to fight off the urge to curl into a ball and forget about it all. _

_Anger burns passionately inside and rages unseen in the forest of Kakashi's heart and mind. It dances on the tip of his tongue and threatens to spill out into the open air and shatter the somewhat peaceful scenery. But it is not peaceful. _

_He tears his gaze away from the spot where his father's life ended and looked around the deserted room. The windows were boarded up and the only light was the dusty sunlight peeking through the window. He looks on helplessly as his old life slips away. _

_Kakashi shakily wanders out of the room. His heart constricted painfully and making it harder to breath. His mind is slowly collapsing. He stumbles and his hand reaches out to regain his balance on the desk that is no longer there. He comes crashing to the ground, and it takes a moment for his mind to remember that everything has been moved to storage. _

_He had been given the choice to take anything he might need, but he declined, he didn't need anything that would remind him of that man, the one who called himself father._

_He looks at the empty space where the desk used to be, for a brief moment he can see it, the one time he had been allowed into his father's study. His younger self standing on the tip of his toes, peering over to see what his father was writing, and Sakumo then picking up his son and setting him on his knee while explaining the world of shinobi to the young boy. His son gazing up at him with all his attention shining in his eyes, eager to learn. The scene fades and there is only an empty hole in Kakashi's heart where his father used to be._

_He shakes his head, picking his self up, his head hanging low, he bites his lip and enters another room. He glances up slowly, his big black eyes threatening to spill over with remorse and barely held back tears. There was his room. The corner where his futon used to be, where his father would tuck him in and when he was younger, tell him stories about his adventures as a ninja. If it was anything else, Kakashi would have smiled. But it seemed that a frown would be forever etched onto his face. He scowls and turns away._

_He walks down the dim hallway, his eyes downcast; he keeps his gaze trained on the floor he walks along, in the ever lengthy hall. He will not think of that man, he will not think. He will not focus on the painful regret deep inside, that is always gnawing and chewing and grinding against his moral. _

_He will not think of how he just can't seem to shake the image of his father's lifeless body, or the blood that drenched the floors and Kakashi's dreams. He will not think of how that man, the one who was supposed to love him, betrayed him to such a cruel reality. Wasn't he enough to live for? Why would his father do that to him? Didn't he love his son? _

_Maybe if he had tried harder, gave him something to live for, he would still be here with him and not buried in the cold hard ground, just another useless corpse, rotting away on the outside as he had already rotted away on the inside while he was living. _

_He touched his face. He was startled by the warm tears streaming down. He hadn't known he was crying. He shouldn't be crying. He shook his head. He shouldn't waste his time crying for the man that had abandoned him. He shouldn't shed his tears for the man who had apparently not cared enough for him. He shouldn't cry. He was a ninja, he was a tool, and tools did not know emotion. _

_He repeated shinobi rule 25 in his head like a mantra, until the words became too jumbled together to tell apart. He swallowed the lump in his throat, scolded himself for feeling such emotions. He took a deep breath and donned the almost causal bored look he had perfected. _

_He knew he had dead eyes, shadows flickering in their depths of unseen nightmares. He was too young to fall apart, too young to have this happen to him. The world was falling out beneath his feet. He took a deep breath and forced himself to be calm once more as he met his sensei outside, the Hatake compound. _

_He looked up at the man, searching in his azure gaze, and suddenly he felt so open, and he knew that his sensei knew he had been crying, no matter how hard Kakashi tried to hide it. He searched for any kind of blame he knew was there. Because now his sensei was burdened with him, and he didn't want to be a burden. The only thing he could find was sadness and sympathy. _

_Kakashi cursed his childish tears. He was a chuunin. He should know better. His sensei's eyes where practically shimmering with sadness for the boy. Kakashi broke eye contact. He didn't need anyone's pity, especially not the sensei that broadcasted every emotion through his eyes with such a passion. _

_He turned and led the way away from his childhood home. His sensei locked the gates and with it locked away Kakashi's innocence. The boy took his last look at the only place that had ever shown him happiness. _

_The image of his childhood, the last happy moment he can recall, he can see it. His young face stretched into a wide smile, his eyes gleaming with unconcealed joy. He cuddled with the new additions to his pack; he now had a proud total of eight ninken in training. He sees his father, in the background, a proud grin etched onto his hardy features. _

_The alpha of The White Fang's pack lay close by, keeping a sharp eye on her pups as she rested in a refreshing patch of sunlight near a blooming willow tree in all its glory, glowing in its youth. She had recently given birth to four healthy pups. Sakumo couldn't have been more proud of her. _

_The only problem was one pup's eyes. They had seemed to be deformed and quite ugly. (Kakashi and Sakumo had a small dispute on the name, Sakumo trying to give the pup a name like Buraindo, meaning blind, but Kakashi had argued that it would be mean to name a dog something like that, in the end, they had settled on the name Akino, which meant autumn feild, referring to the pup's light hazel fur.) _

_The rest of the pack had been easy, and before long they were facing the last of the litter. Sakumo peered down on the young pup, its scrawny tail thumping, its wrinkled face grimacing up at him, its thin paws kneading the ground. The pug seemed too small to be a ninja hound, and Sakumo decided that he must be the runt of the litter. _

_Knowing from experience that the weak often get killed off first, he decided that for the sake of the dog's well-being, and Kakashi's young heart, they would have to give it away so when its timely death approached it wouldn't shatter the poor boy's heart too severely. _

_The both of them were out too often to take care of a dog, much less a puppy. He had noticed too late that he had let the boy become attached to the tiny pup, he sighed, as he knew there was no easy way to separate the two. He had tried to explain to the boy, but Kakashi wouldn't listen. He clutched the pup against his chest, where it squealed a bit but willingly allowed itself to be pressed against the child. _

_Kakashi had then began to explain hotly about how he'd find a place because there was a place for everything in this world, and it wouldn't be fair for the puppy, and now it was his puppy, and he's take extra special care of him so he wouldn't get hurt. _

_Sakumo had gazed down on his innocent boy with knowing eyes, he then questioned about how they would attack with such a measly pug, how could he contribute if he would just be getting in the way? Kakashi's eyes had flashed strangely at the comment, and he murmured once more about how the pug would be useful because Kakashi would protect him, and he would find what the dog's talents were. _

_Sakumo sighed, they weren't getting anywhere with this. They were going in circles. But Kakashi seemed stubborn to keep the pup, so Sakumo let it be, for the time being. Telling himself to cross that bridge when they came to it, and cursing himself for giving in to his son's wishes, whereas he was the father and what he said should have been a command, but the boy tugged at his heartstrings so, and it was impossible to decline him, especially when he had his mother's smile. _

_The pug became known as Pakkun, and along with the other newly dubbed puppies, they eventually they all found their calling. They soon began to learn the art of tracking, where they excelled, someday to be known as Konoha's best, and the scraggy pug turned out to be the most intelligent of them all._

_The seen fades. And the Hatake house is faded and gray. The windows are boarded up and the paint is chipped. The grass is yellow and straw-like and uncomfortable. The willow is wilted and moping, its barked chipped from kunai practice, where it had patiently endured, its leaves are long gone and all that's left is an unstable tree, bound to collapse any day. _

_The sky was black with ever present storm clouds. The once happy seen is overshadowed with guilt, and the pleasant memory is over ridden with daunting lies. The stench of blood looms over the scene, and soon drowns out what joy could have been found there. _

_The boy, now older and wiser, turns away, his hard black eyes long since lost its pure shine. He does not look back. Another chapter in his life has begun._

_*End of Flashback*_

He lowered his eyes; he let his gaze slide down the slant in the roof and slipped into the drop of oblivion below. Even though the sun was rising, it still had ways to go before it warmed the frosty northern side of the village.

He glanced at his sensei through hazy eyes the man was sitting straight, and he seemed to be drinking in the view. Kakashi sighed, and image of his father appearing as they sometimes did at the most awkward moments.

His life had changed so drasticly since his father's decision. And although his life had been altered, he sometimes had trouble deciding if it was for the better. Sure, it was nice living with Minato-sensei, But sensei wasn't Sakumo, and there would always be a somewhat heavy silence between the two, a constant reminder of what had been lost to cause the two of them to come together.

On a brighter note, he wouldn't have to look out for himself anymore, but part of him missed the responsibility he used to own. He knew Minato-sensei wasn't family, and he would have to move out sooner or later, but that time was far away, and for now he was in Minato's care.

He suddenly felt a stare boring into him, self-consciously, feeling the heat of the gaze, turned his head to find the source of his sudden discomfort. He quickly found the answer to his unspoken question; the culprit was his sensei's bright cerulean orbs. He should have known. He wasn't prepared for a stare off, and suddenly fearing the emotions that might be given away through his eyes, he quickly chose to glower down at his lap instead.

He could imagine his sensei's reaction to the sudden movement, eyebrow's crinkling and blue eyes twinkling as they always did. At the moment, he hated him for it. Hated him for caring and making him feel helpless and weak and secure, for once in his life he actually felt accepted by someone, and he felt so vulnerable because of it.

"Are you okay Kakashi?" a voice murmured from behind him.

He almost didn't hear the question, for it was spoken at such a volume. He shrugged lightly, cursing himself for letting his weakness become noticeable. Suddenly his sensei's voice was much clearer, as now the blonde had moved to sit beside him once more.

"Are you sure?" The jounin's eyes held nothing but genuine concern for his pupil.

Kakashi nodded mutely, only half listening, not making eye contact. He knew that they were all telltale signs of a liar, but at the moment he could care less. He dragged his finger against the rough chocolatle colored roof, staring deep into the brown as if it could solve his problems. It glared back at him, giving him no answers, only a forest of bland russet.

Minato gazed at the boy's back through saddened eyes, he pitied the boy, for his misfortune in life, and for the fact that he was too wounded in his heart to let it heal. He tried to convey his feeling of sorrow through his eyes, but the boy was as unresponsive as ever, tracing his finger along the rooftop, a mix of murky bown and creamy tan as the sun transformed it with it's warmth.

He blinked, wanting nothing more than to help the boy, let him know that he could always count on his sensei for all of his love and support and anything else he would ever need from life, his sensei would try as hard as he could to give him whatever it would take to make his world go round, all he needed was his chance.

His sensei would always be there for him, he could count on him, his sensei would always give him a shoulder to lean on, let him know that it's alright to open up to someone, not everyone was out there to hurt him.

"Tell me what's on your mind, Kakashi." He gently whispered. Cocking his head to the side as a quiet mood sets in the morning air. _I want to be there for you _he thinks desperately, his soft sapphire eyes serious against the dying moonlight.

Kakashi's mind is a swamp of misgivings and denial.A nasty, sly voice cooes in the back of his head, it's silky voice pushing him off the edge of despair. _He doesn't really want to help you. He doesn't actually care for you're well being. You thinking that you have problems is going to weigh him down and slow him down and that could get him killed someday, and then it will be your fault again. It's always your fault. Get over yourself, you don't know what a real problem is. You're just a little kid. Grow up._

But he had lived by the evil thoughts his head thought up, having no choice but to believe them, and now Kakashi could see the fault in that form of thinking. Common sense told him his sensei's words were true and his own intuition could seen the honesty in his senei's eyes.

His sensei was reaching for him, wanting to keep him down on earth, willing to be his anchor with all of his being and Kakashi could feel it from the genuine smile that graced his features day after day of the death and war, and in the mist of the turmoil his sensei would be smiling. A part of him wondered that if he died, would his sensei still go on with that happy smile on his face? Does he mean anything to this man at all?

A part of his soul hollowed when he realiezed the answer to his unspoken question. This was a man who had seen many seasons on the battle field and had earned his reputation on a jutsu that allowed him to clear a battle field in one sweep, a silent killing. He was paid to end lives and yet he could go home and smile as if they weren't in the middle of a war and there weren't innocent people dying as he spoke.

How can he go around finding the good things in life when he had spent his whole life being trained to kill? Where was the honor in that? Was this what Kakashi's own life would turn out to be like?

Spending his days teaching children the most efficient way to slit a throat without getting blood on themselves? Was it just a continuos cycle, were shinobi really just pawns in the village's deadly game? Making a living by ruining others?

He shook his head to clear it all. No wonder his father killed himself, living in the madness was unbareable and Kakashi hadn't even seen the worst of it yet. He sighed quietly before thinking about it.

He started as his unoccupied hand was gently taken by a much bigger one. He glared suspiciously at his sensei before his eyes darted away in fear of them meeting. It was rough and kind and although Kakashi's instincts screamed at him to leave the situation because this was contact, and since his heart was a roller coaster of emotions, he knew nothing good would come from this.

His sensei was sitting next to him now, his light indigo eyes half lidded but attentive. "What's on your mind? I'm here to listen to you."

And though he was denying the urge to spill his fears to his sensei, and although every fiber in his body was against him accepting the fact that he needed help, a few words slipped past his guard, and before he knew it he couldn't stop. He started from the begining and said everything that had ever bothered him feeling weaker and more pathetic by the moment.

And as much as he hated himself for it, he had to admit that he did feel better after. Like a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders, like he had been relieved of a burden he didn't know he had.

He looked down at the rooftop, startled to see teardrops speckling the surface and dripping down onto it like a drainpipe after a storm. He slowly touched his face, disturbing the never ceasing flow of tears. Kakashi looked at his hands, wet with tears and remembering the last time he cried.

But unlike last time, he wasn't sucked into the flash backs he had come to dread. He no longer relived the moment, it was just a memory, and that it would stay. He thought his tears were his weakness, but they were only purging out the turmoil deep inside.

He put his hands down on his lap, and not bothering to wipe the remaining liquids away, wearing them proudly, for he had admitted what had been plaguing his waking moments, and he let his sensei wrap him into a warm hug, and he did not fight it, he let himself be envoloped in the ever present, unconditional love of his sensei, like the father he never had, and he was not ashamed.

* * *

><p>The next night, He dreamt.<p>

He was wandering around a feild, it was calm and welcoming as his dreamland should be, and the grass was soft and dappled with stardust as far as he could see. As he wandered on, unsure of where he was heading but only knowing that he needed to be there.

He followed the pull he felt, like a magnet to metal, and soon something came into veiw. He felt his heart stop and his eyes widen and his feet stop working. The man he saw, with his flowing silver ponytail in all its glory, silky and swaying with a sudden breeze, was standing, back to his son, but he was there.

Out of the many emotions that had come rushing in at the sight of his father, only a few of them were recognzable. They were emotions like hate and anger, and sorrow and pain. But two emotions stood our stronger than the rest, and it filled Kakashi, they were not ones he had anticipated, but ones of grudging forgiveniss and longing.

Longing to feel that sense of comfort and security he only felt when his father was near. Sakumo did not look like how Kakashi had last seen him, blood splayed out and a dead face cold and angry, he looked like how Kakashi wanted to remember him.

Sakumo turned to face his son, and Kakashi was hit with his soft eyes, and hardy smile and everything about him seemed perfect and Kakashi knew that this was his father and there was no one else that could ever come close to the kindness his eyes felt and the love they shared.

His father took him in, and smiled, a smile of releif mingled with well hidden sadness. Almost as soon as he had come, his father started to fade, his outline growing blurry until he was gone from veiw. But Kakashi kept staring at the place he had been, as though he was still there smiling down on him.

Even if his father was gone physically, Kakashi felt that he wasn't really gone, and he never would be disapear completely. His legacy would continue on within his son, and The White Fang would always be watching over the boy he would always love.

And for the first time in a long time, kakashi was at peace with himself, and the world around. It was a new dawn, and he was going to make the most of it, and live while he could and know that when the time came, his father would be waiting for him.

* * *

><p><strong>This is not the end! Prepare for a time skip! (But it might be a little late because I need to get Microsoft word all sorted out. And sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, there is a hurricane coming its rainging outside, welcome hurricane Irene! and I want to post this before the power goes out.)<strong>


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